While watching the freight cars slowly pass by, one piece of graffiti caught my eye: It's been 9 months and I still want to talk about her.
The girls and I are in Alabama for a few weeks, living in a tiny one room apartment with Daddy while he attends training. It has been a good taste for me of life away from the familiar. 50 other families, and not one knew my story. They see my daughters and comment on their cuteness, some inquire if we are having more.
I don't want to wear Lia as a badge on my shoulder, but there is a part of me that feels very lost when no one knows. The first night here was the most challenging. Everything of Lia's, a blanket, a lock of hair, a hand print, are all back home. Coming here, while good for our family was like taking another step away from Lia.
Even though time has healed us greatly and I am no longer dealing with the moment by moment memories and thoughts, I still want to talk about her. So last night, on the way to the spouses' bible study, I quietly prayed for an opportunity to share at least a piece of my story.
The leader opened the study with this question - What does Grace mean to you?
Thank You Lord for once again meeting the most basic of my needs - the need to connect, truly connect with others. Thank You for opening a door to share a piece of Lia Grace's story and the story of Your Sustaining Grace poured out in our lives. I know it is silly, but I guess I needed to be reminded that You are Lord everywhere, even in Alabama.